


The Singularity of a Broken Soul

by Scarecrowiero (rpholic)



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, BDSM, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Fantasy, Frerard, M/M, Smoking, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 03:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpholic/pseuds/Scarecrowiero
Summary: A tall dark stranger, with a long trail of smoke and alcohol surronding him. A dreamy, dorky, short man with a bright smile and sad eyes. What could go wrong?





	The Singularity of a Broken Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1: About Roses & Thorns

Frank watched the clock impatiently, cleaning the already immaculate counter as he tapped his foot rapidly. He had never had the dream job; he wanted so desperately to be in the place of the bands that played in the bar where he mixed drinks. He was cleaning the tables before they opened that at noon, most of the clientele started to arrive past 6 pm though. It was an easy job and Frank liked it well enough, but he still listened and watched the bands dreamily as they performed on the small stage provided by the bar.

At three o’clock Patrick and the rest of the band arrived and frank rushed to help them set up, he didn’t have to but he loved to climb up on the stage and hold the instruments, specially Pete’s guitar, he was so fascinated with guitars and he never hid the fact when he helped him adjust the sound for them and sometimes even played a few chords of their songs to try out the sound.

Weekdays weren’t particularly busy and he was used to the rhythm, even if mixing drinks for total jerks wasn’t his favorite activity. The dark haired guy who came every Tuesday was here early and Frank wasn’t quite ready for it, he sat on one of the booths at the counter just letting his gloomy presence sink in and Frank reluctantly approached him.

“Hello, sir, what would you like?”

“Usual.” He said simply, barely audible.

Frank prepared the strangely lively, sweet punch with an equal amount of vodka that the he always served the raven haired man, ever since he started working there. When Frank first met him he’d had to ask around what the hell did Mr. Way had for ‘usual’ because when Frank questioned the man, he glared at him in a way that made Frank cringe, like a warning. As it was now, Frank almost felt he was Mr. Way’s favorite bartender, he always sat on his side of the bar, but probably Frank was misinterpreting the fact that he had always chosen that area to sit even before Frank had arrived so, like his ‘usual’ drink it was just a constant he’d rather not change. Mr. Way always left a few moments after the bands started playing but not when Patrick’s band played, then he stayed throughout half of the songs then left, but tonight he was still there when the guys were thanking everyone and he hadn’t ordered more than four drinks. _Odd_. Frank thought as he cleared up the counter and picked up the glasses left behind by other costumers.

It’s not that Frank watched him a lot but he was there a lot so he couldn’t help but know, know that something was off, he seemed, sad? Was that the word to describe it? He was hunched over, and stared at his drink blankly for quite a long while before glancing towards the stage occasionally and he hadn’t moved much either, he usually displayed numerous nervous tics like bouncing his leg and touching his hair, licking and biting his lips; okay, maybe Frank did watch him more often than not, but what with that? It was his job to know his clients anyway, so he was just making sure to be friendly and offer a client some comfort when he approached Mr. Way after most clients were either gone or too drunk for conversation.

“Hello, sir, is everything okay; could I offer you anything else?”

The man raised his eyes and stared at him intensely, but it wasn’t frightening or intimidating, it was like he was searching for something in Frank’s eyes, then he scoffed “No, there’s nothing you can offer me.” He rolled his eyes seemingly to himself and Frank frowned, he didn’t like to be belittled by anyone.

“There surely must be, you come here every week and sit on my tending area, but never try anything new, maybe you should try to loosen up and stop being so uptight.”

After he finished speaking Frank felt a warm rush over his entire body as Mr. Way gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled forward against the counter, the air being propelled out of his lungs when his chest collided against the edge.

"Don't test your luck, kid, or is this some suicidal tendency showing here?" His words were slurred and barely above a whisper, there were bags under his eyes, his tiny teeth looked very damaged and he reeked of cigarettes, his breath was intoxicating, not in a good way either.

After what seemed minutes, but must have only been seconds, Mr. Way let him go and when he looked around, it seemed like no one noticed what'd just happened. Frank's heart was beating fast and he still felt hot all over, embarrassed and humiliated. He didn't speak to the man again that night and instead focused on the other costumers, cleaning his area and watching the band play, slowly relaxing by the end of his shift.

He had a double shift which meant he left the bar at 2:00 a.m. It was chilly when he went outside and made his way to his car, that he left a few blocks away to leave the front of the bar available for costumers. He pulled his hood over his head and ignored the feeling of being followed, which was rather common for him to get after leaving the bar this late. When he walked around the front of his car he heard a curse and when he raised his eyes there was a tall figure standing on the sidewalk, he froze for a moment, and with shaky hands gripped his keys trying to fit the right one in the keyhole. His ears were ringing and he slipped into his car as fast as he could and suddenly turned to the window, screaming out as the figure had ducked and was staring at him through the glass, freaking out he started the engine and drove off as fast as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Reader - author here, 
> 
> Just wanted to say that I definitely want to keep writing despite being terrible at following through with regular updates I wil not just leave this or any of my other published works unfinished... unless I die HAHAHAHAH. Anyway, here is yet another fanfiction and this time it is more poetic? --- I am trying, okay? 
> 
> Honestly though, I hope you like it, feel free to let me know your thoughts or rant about me not being active on my other stories for literally years down in the comments. LOL. I won't promise to update this or any other of my fics soon... but I do promise I will eventually. Christmas season/holidays is a good time to be hopeful!
> 
> Kuddos if you want, maybe?
> 
> Okay, bye.


End file.
